


Aftertaste

by prepare4trouble



Series: Aftertaste [1]
Category: Lost Boys (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Character Turned Into Vampire, Frogfic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-10
Updated: 2010-04-10
Packaged: 2017-10-31 16:46:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/346287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prepare4trouble/pseuds/prepare4trouble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after Reign of Frogs. Alan drank vampire blood, and Edgar is going to save him even if he has to tear down the whole town to do it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Edgar went home in a daze, his head spinning, unable to think of anything but the look of revulsion and fear in Alan's eye before he turned and flew away. As hard as he had tried, and he had tried everything, he had failed, the bloodlust had won. Somewhere, if there was an afterlife for vampires, the one who turned him would be laughing.

As soon as he stepped inside, Edgar felt the exhaustion wash over him like a wave. His knees buckled and he sank to the floor, placed his head in his hands and stayed there. It had been a long night. A long month, actually. Almost four weeks had passed since he had hears his brother say those terrible words, 'She made me drink.'

To his credit, Alan had fought valiantly against the evil inside him, refusing to give in, trusting that his brother would help him. In those first moments, Edgar had thought his brother was already lost. The cruelest twist was that he had been right, only it would take them both longer before they knew it for sure.

He crawled into bed fully clothed, not ever bothering to remove his boots or his t-shirt still wet with blood. For the first time in as long as he could remember, Edgar Frog cried. The tears drenched his pillow, his head pounded as the sobs shook his body, but he barely felt it. The pain his his head didn't come close to the one in his heart.


	2. Part 1

_One month ago:_

“Where's Alan?!”

Sam didn't react as Edgar shook him violently, an edge of hysteria creeping into his voice.

“Where's my brother, damn it? Where's Alan?”

A single tear fell from Sam's eye and suddenly Edgar knew, knew like he knew his own name, that this was the night that everything would change Sam was out, he was done. And Alan, Alan was...

Frustration and panic gripped him hard, and Edgar shook Sam again, “Snap out of it, Sam, right now. There could be more of them. There could be...Alan could be...”

“I'm not,” said a voice from the doorway. Edgar looked up. It didn't sound like his brother, he sounded small. Scared. “I'm not. Yet. But soon, Edgar.” He took a step forwards, then hesitated, “What am I going to do?” he whispered.

“You're going to get over here and help me get Sam out of here, he's surprisingly heavy.”

Alan straightened up and nodded, appearing to shake off his fears when given a task. He grabbed their friend under one arm, Edgar took the other, and they half dragged him from the mansion.

The sun was just beginning to set as they deposited Sam in the back of the truck. Still, Alan felt it's weakening effects. He struggled to ignore the sudden drain on his strength, thankful that darkness was approaching and soon he could pretend for a few more hours that everything was okay. He climbed as quickly as he could into the truck, Edgar drove and Alan took shotgun. They sped through the streets, taking corners terrifyingly quickly.

“Where'd you learn to drive,” muttered a voice from the back seat.

“I didn't. Too busy saving the world.”

Alan put on his seatbelt, Edgar glared at him.

“Like a car accident could kill you right now.”

Alan looked away, not wanting to meet his brother's gaze. He stared out the window, watching Santa Carla rush past at warp four.

* * *

It was full dark when Edgar stopped the car by the back entrance to the comic shop. He hit the brakes too hard, slamming everyone forward.

“Ow,” came a protest from behind him.

“Glad to have you back with us, Sam. Tell me you don't need carrying out of the car as well.”

He jerked back in shock at the touch of his brothers hand on his forearm, “Cool it, Edgar, he just lost his grandpa.”

“His creepy, chipmunk drinking, taxidermist, half vampire grandpa.”

Alan slammed open the car door and leapt out. “Damn it, Edgar. For once in your life can't you think before you open your mouth?” He turned and ran to the house, leaving Edgar staring after him.

“Oh, right.” He pressed his knuckles hard into the side of his head before turning around, “Still with us, Sam?”

“Yeah,” Sam climbed out of the truck, brushing down his clothes as he did.

Edgar looked him over, there were no obvious signs of damage. He still had that vacant look in his eyes.

* * *

“Right, here's the plan.”

Edgar was kneeling on the floor of his bedroom, back against the wall, going through his hunting supplies. A bottle of holy water, two stakes and a couple of garlic bulbs. “We lie low for tonight, the black widow's gonna be coming for us. If she sends some more lackeys, we'll kill them, then tomorrow when it's light, we go after her. If she comes herself, so much the better, we'll kill her and save Alan, and save ourselves the effort of going after her tomorrow. He threw an empty backpack to Sam, “Gear up, we've got a long night ahead of us.”

Sam picked up the bag and reluctantly began filling it with anti-vampire weapons. He hesitated, “Edgar, I don't think I can do this,”

“What do you mean you can't do this, soldier? We're fighting for our lives here. Worse, we're fighting for Alan's humanity. You need to get your head on right, or else one of them is going to rip it off.”

“No, Edgar, he's right,” said Alan from the other side of the room. Edgar looked up in surprise. “We need to get away, if we wait here, they're just going to come and slaughter us. I'm in no condition to fight, Sam either. Do you think you can take on whatever she throws at you alone?”

Edgar stared at his brother, “I didn't think I was going to be alone, I thought I had back up. What the hell is wrong with you, do you want to turn into a bloodsucker?”

“Of course not! I'm just trying to be practical. We need to lie low, because there are God knows how many angry vampires out for blood, and it's already dark. They could be here any minute, and we're not ready to take them on.”

Edgar sighed in frustration, Alan was right. He hated to admit it, but there was a major storm coming and the only thing they could do was get out of the way. “Get back in the car,” he decided, “we'll find someplace to hide, then at first light, we burn that bitch's house to the ground, and pray she's still inside.”


	3. Part 2

“Alan?”

Alan looked over at his brother slouched in the passenger side of the car and grunted a response. They had driven for hours, and when Edgar was too tired to continue, Alan had taken over. The night seemed to give him some kind of energy. Under cover of darkness he felt as though he could keep going like this for days. It felt good, which in turn felt really, really bad.

“How're you doing? Not getting any urges to use me as a midnight snack, are you?”

He shook his head, “I'm fine for now. But I'm scared, Edgar. If we can't find the widow, if she's already left town, what's going to happen to me?”

Edgar didn't reply. Alan knew the answer to that question, and saying it out loud wasn't going to help anyone.

“Promise me you won't let it come to that. Don't let me turn. If I don't have the guts to do it myself, promise me you'll stake me before I kill anyone.”

“Done,” Edgar's eyes slid shut, “Now you promise me you won't eat me while I sleep.”

 

As dawn broke, Alan retreated to the back seat under the cover of a thick blanket and slept while Sam took his turn in the driver's seat. He was woken to the feeling of someone prodding him, “Alan? Wake up, it's time for revenge. We're here.”

“Ugh,” Clumsy with the need to sleep, he pushed the blanket back. As his face emerged, he was met by the brightest light he had ever seen. So bright it stung his eyes. He cried out in pain and threw an arm across his face. Exhaustion and nausea began to creep up on him again, and he suppressed the urge to panic. For a moment, he had given in to the wonderful fantasy that the previous night had been some kind of bad dream. But in the blindingly bright light of day, with the sun he usually loved so much sapping his energy and piercing his eyes right through to the back of his skull, it was impossible to cling to that hope.

He took a deep breath and reached for the sunglasses that Sam had wordlessly shoved into his backpack last night at they were heading out the door. Gratefully, he slipped them on and emerged once again. It wasn't much better. Where before the sun had been a white hot poker in his eyes, now it was reduced to the level of an impossibly bright day. His eyes still stung, but it wasn't quite so bad. “When this is over, remind me I owe your brother an apology, Sam,” he muttered.

“C'mon,” Edgar gripped him by the back of his shirt and yanked him out of the car, “We've got work to do.”

Alan noticed that while he had slept, the others had stocked up on gasoline and matches. They must have had a difficult job explaining that to the clerk at the gas station. He tried to summon the energy to follow them, while Edgar and Sam carried the heavy containers to the house.

Edgar picked the lock expertly and quickly, and let himself inside. Once out of the energy sucking oppression of daylight, Alan began to feel better. Still tired, but his eyes no longer hurt, and some of his strength returned. He grabbed a can of gasoline and followed Edgar and Sam's lead as they tiptoed around the house, dripping the contents on as many surfaces as they could manage.

As they entered the room where his grandfather had died, Sam hesitated. There were still bloodstains on the floor. For a moment, all three of them stopped to think about what had been lost here, Sam's grandfather, Alan's humanity, life as they knew it. Then, as though a telepathic decision had been made, they began to move again, sloshing the flammable liquid everywhere.

When they were done and safely outside, Edgar reached into his jacket pocket and brought out a small glass bottle and a book of matches. He poured the remaining gas into the bottle, untied his bandanna and soaked it, then stuffed most of it inside the bottle. Slowly and solemnly, he handed it to Alan “I think you should do the honors, bro.”

Alan nodded and with a shaking hand, lit a match, set the gas soaked bandanna alight, and threw the bottle into the house.

The fire started with the sound of breaking glass and the roar of the explosion. As they watched, flames began to spread and take hold, and thick, black smoke began to billow into the air.

“We should go before someone notices,” Alan said.

Edgar and Sam nodded and followed him back to the car. Edgar, self nominated getaway driver, jumped into the drivers seat, and they headed back to base.

“Do you feel any different?” Sam asked Alan from the back of the car. Silently, Edgar turned his head to see his brother's reaction.

“No,” Alan shook his head, sunglasses still in place, still squinting against the sunlight.

“Give it time,” Edgar told him. “The fire's still burning, it must not have got her yet.”

“Yeah, definitely,” added Sam.

Alan let his eyes slip closed and allowed himself the comforting thought that when they opened again, he would be human.

 

He could sense the encroaching darkness, like a comforting embrace, it enveloped him in its cool, dark arms. Alan opened his eyes and sat up. He was hungry. The thought was dropped like a stone, sending ripples of fear through the previously calm waters of his mind. Hungry, but not for food.

“Hold it right there,”

Edgar's voice had come from the door of his room, Alan looked over to see his brother leaning against the door frame, a crucifix in one hand, a water gun in the other.

“Are you yourself again?”

“No,”

His face fell and Edgar turned and kicked the wall “Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT! We left it too late. We should have gone back there last night.” He slumped, “I'm sorry, Al, I'll find her. I'll fix this, I promise.”

Alan nodded, “I know,”

“In the meantime, stay here. Do not leave this room under any circumstances, understand? You might be my brother, but right now you could vamp out at any moment, and I want you away from potential victims. I'm locking you in, and if you come after me, know I'll be armed at all times.”

“Yeah, okay.” Alan lay back down on the bed, “Can you at least bring me some comic books?”

 

He paced the room, up and down, left to right. Sat down, stood up. He tried to read, but he couldn't concentrate. He paced the room again. The clock was ticking loudly, counting the seconds that he had been locked in there. How many had it been? He had no idea, but half of the night had passed already. He looked out of the window. It would be so tempting to climb out, Edgar may have locked the door, but he hadn't thought of the window.

He crept over and glanced out at the night. He wouldn't do anything, he'd be back before Edgar woke, what would be the harm?

No. He shook his head in refusal of the thought. He sat down. No point trying to sleep, he'd be doing that anyway once the sun came up. Still, he closed his eyes and tried to relax. He let his hands drop to his sides and listened to the silence. It was something their parents had used to try to make them do, Edgar had always scoffed and left the room, Alan had always followed him, but now, maybe it would help.

It didn't. He couldn't listen to the silence, because there was no silence. The clock continued to tick loudly, Outside, he could hear the sound of drunken kids making their way home. Inside, he could hear breathing, not his own.

Curious, he concentrated on that sound, trying to identify it. It wasn't just one person, there were three distinctive patterns, two slow and relaxed, coming from across the hall - his parents, sleeping the sleep of the very stoned – and Edgar next door, definitely not relaxed, more like wide awake.

He could hear movement from his brother's room. The floorboards creaked softly as he moved around, restlessly pacing. The opening and closing of books and comic books, a sigh, a yawn, the hiss of a can of soft drink opening, the smell of cheap generic cola. Alan grimaced. Edgar hated the stuff. He was drinking it for the caffeine content, trying to stay awake.

Alan walked silently to the other side of the room, the side that shared a wall with Edgar, and sat down. His hand tapped on the wall quickly, 'S-L-E-E-P . E-D.'

He could easily imagine the deadpan expression on his brother's face as the reply came through, 'A-F-T-E-R . Y-O-U'

It was no more than he expected, but it was less than he deserved. Or was it? Already, he could feel the need clawing at his insides. His over sensitive sense of smell could make out the scent of Edgar's blood, his ears could hear his brother's heartbeat as it pumped the life giving liquid around his body. Alan wasn't so far gone yet that he could contemplate doing anything about it, but already his half vampire body was crying out in pain, railing against the humanity of his mind. He could hold out for now, but for how much longer?

He got to his feet and moved away from the wall - away from Edgar - and pressed his body against the cool glass of the window. He ran a hand across his brow, it came away damp with sweat. He wiped the hand on his t-shirt and started to chew on his nails, praying for sunrise and the unconsciousness that it would bring.


	4. Part 3

Alan was dragged from unconsciousness by the incessant prodding of something sharp into his leg. He groaned and turned over, moving away from the source of the irritation.

Edgar grunted in frustration and moved dragged the curtains closed, darkening the room, “Wake up, death breath, I've got news.”

The prodding continued until Alan opened his eyes and glared at his brother in irritation.

“Hey!” Edgar backed off a few steps, “It's me. Calm down!” He waved the stake he had been using to prod his brother in front of him and took another step backwards, “This was all I had on me, shaking you wasn't working, I was just trying to wake you up.”

Alan frowned and forced his protesting body into a seated position, “What are you talking about?”

“You've...” Edgar hesitated, he looked genuinely afraid, “Alan, you've got the vamp-eyes going on.” He waved a hand in front of his own face to indicate Alan's eyes and suddenly the penny dropped. 

Alan's eyes widened in realization, then he turned his face away from Edgar and down to the floor in shame, “Sorry.”

“Um,” Edgar lowered the stake, “don't worry about it. We've got a lead on the Black Widow. Just wanted to let you know, figured you'd be out cold til after I left. Next time I'll leave a note.” He turned to leave.

“Edgar, wait, what's the lead?”

His brother turned back, “Maybe nothing. Sam called, he thinks he saw some vampires last night, hanging round town. He might be wrong, but if he's right, if I can separate one from the rest and get him cornered, then I can get him talking. It makes sense if all the vamps in town are connected to the Widow, they probably know where to find her.”

“So the plan is you and Sam hang around in town until you see a vampire, somehow get it alone, somehow capture it, and then torture it for information?” 

Edgar shook his head, “Not exactly. Sam's not going. Can you believe that? After everything we've been through, suddenly he's just out?” He smacked the wall with the palm of his left hand, “We saved him and his blood sucking brother, the least he could do is help us out when we're in the same goddamn mess.”

Alan remained silent on the issue, he could see both sides of the argument and if his future wasn't resting on finding the Widow, he wasn't sure whose side he would have taken. “Are my eyes still red?” he asked instead. He turned hesitantly back to his brother, almost afraid to met his gaze.

“No,”

“Eddie, don't you see a problem with your plan? Like maybe that he's a vampire, possibly with a bunch of vampire friends, and you're just one human kid?”

Edgar stared at his brother in surprise, “A kid? I'm older than you. And I've got no other choice.”

Alan stood up, “I'm going with you.”

“No!” Edgar shook his head and backed towards the door, “No way. You stay here where it's safe.”

“I'm going,” Alan advanced towards him, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. “You need back up, Edgar, I'm not letting you go out there alone. Either you let me come with you, or you don't go. You're my last resort, I need you alive to stake me if it comes to that.”

Edgar's back hit the wall and he had no choice but to stop. He looked his brother up and down, taking in the equal measures of desperation and determination in his expression. “Okay, but you do exactly what I say. If I tell you to get out, you do it, no hesitation, no questions. Got it?”

Alan nodded.

“And don't take this the wrong way, but stay where I can see you.”

* * *

“This is ridiculous!” complained Alan, just over an hour into their stakeout of the boardwalk.

“Calm down, Alan, or you're going home, I can't risk a full on vampire freak out in the middle of town.”

Alan took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. All around him, oblivious civilians wandered past, going about their lives, unaware of the predator watching them. He could smell them, he could hear the blood pumping through their veins. He felt like a man dying of thirst, dropped into the cool waters of a clear, unpolluted lake and told he couldn't drink. Every cell in his body screamed out for relief, he felt like he would die if he didn't take what he needed.

They were leaning against a wire fence, just on the edge of the boardwalk, facing the throng of people, trying to look nonchalant while scanning them for potential vampires as they passed. Even while telling him to calm down, Edgar looked equally frustrated. They hadn't expected it to be easy, but it was the only way they could think of.

Another deep breath, trying to ignore the scent of blood. Behind his back, his fingers threaded through the fence, gripping the thick wire so tightly he felt it might cut through his skin. Deep, calming breaths. Just like his parents had always told him. “What was it about these guys Sam saw that made him think they were vampires?”

Edgar shrugged, “Pale, wearing sunglasses, creepy vibe. You know. Just keep your eyes open for any likely suspects.”

Alan sighed. A group of kids walked past, as he squashed down the urge to attack, a thought occurred to him. He looked sideways at Edgar. He brother was standing completely still, staring suspiciously at everyone that passed them. They had no chance of finding a vampire that way. Even the humans were giving them odd looks and a wide berth.

Deciding he had no choice but to try, he concentrated on one of the people walking past. Instead of trying to ignore his scent, he drank it it, savored it. He smelled like food. So did the family strolling by, the kids eating cotton candy while the mom held their hands tightly. As he expanded his senses, he realized that he wasn't in a lake, but surrounded by a series of small ponds, each one unique, and each one tantalizing. Then, understanding this, he tried to find someone different. Someone who didn't smell like food. Someone with something different pumping through their veins.

He lost track of time standing there, lost in the wonder and the horror of what he was doing. Then he noticed something. His eyes focused on a man walking slowly through the crowd, he looked like any other teenage kid out looking for a good time, but Alan knew that he wasn't. He smelled wrong, he moved wrong. He even felt wrong. The man seemed to exude such a sense of otherness and danger that it was had to believe the people around him couldn't see him for what he was. Alan tapped Edgar with his elbow and nodded in the vampire's direction.

“What, him?” Edgar shook his head, “Why?”

“I just know.”

Edgar looked as though he was going to argue, then his eyes widened as he realized what his brother was saying. “Oh.” He looked down, “Useful talent you've got there, bro.”

Alan didn't reply, instead he released his death-grip on the railing fence behind him and took off following the vampire. Edgar hurried after him.

The vampire quickly left the boardwalk and turned off into town. Holding back, hoping not to be noticed, the trailed him through the streets until he reached somewhere quiet and empty. Edgar sprung forward, drawing his water gun filled with holy water and pointing it at the vampire, “Hold it right there, blood breath.”

The vampire turned around slowly to look at him, then laughed.

“Something funny?” Edgar's eyes narrowed.

“Here I was trying to decide who to eat, and along comes a volunteer.” The vampire smirked, and his face changed, his eye glowed red, and he began to advance on Edgar.

Edgar held up his crucifix and pulled the trigger on his water gun. He missed. The vampire moved closer.

Allowing the crucifix to drop to the ground by his feet, Edgar used his free hand to pull out the wooden stake that had been strapped to his back. He raised it in the air threateningly. The hand holding the gun shook slightly as he fired again. He missed again.

The vampire knocked the gun out of Edgar's hand, gripped him by the front of his shirt and raised him a foot off the ground. The older Frog struck out with the stake, knowing he had no chance of victory, knowing that he was going to die. He was going to go down fighting. He just hoped Alan had had the good sense to run.

Without warning, something sped past him and collided with the vampire. Edgar fell to the ground in a heap and looked up just in time to see his brother flying through the air, pushing the vampire backwards as he did. They hit a wall with a crack and slid to the ground. Alan pulled out his own water gun from his pocket and aimed it directly at the vampire's face, “Try anything, and you get a face full of holy water,” he said. “You might able to kill us, but good luck looking inconspicuous in future with half a face.”

The vampire raised his hands in defeat, “What do you want?”

“Answers,” said Edgar as he climbed to his feet. “We're looking for a friend of yours, goes by the name the Black Widow. Where can we find her?”

Alan's finger tightened on the trigger.

“Up at the mansion, man!” The vampire answered quickly, never taking his eyes off the end of the gun, “She's got this big mansion just outside of town. Real freaky place from what I hear.”

“Been there, torched that,” Edgar said, “she's moved on. Where to?”

“Torched it? Seriously?” The vampire pressed his head back into the wall, trying to put just a few fractions of an inch extra between himself and the dripping gun. “Then she's gone. What did you do, sneak in there during the day and burn it down?” He smiled mockingly, “She sleeps in the basement, man. It's real secure. Unless you went down there with gasolene and a lighter while she slept, she survived the fire. Vampires don't need to breathe, so she wouldn't notice the smoke. You did all that for nothing, and now she's gone, and no one in town is gonna be able to tell you where.” He laughed mockingly.

Too quickly for Edgar to stop him, Alan fired the gun in the vampire's face. Before anything he even had chance to scream, Alan grabbed Edgar's stake out of his hand and drove it through the vampire's heart.

The laughter died on his lips, replaced by shock, then nothing.

The body stayed where it was, still and dead. No explosion, no screams of agony, no fire. Just the body of a young man slumped against the wall, another corpse in the murder capital of the world.

It wasn't enough. Not for Alan. He wanted fire, he wanted the vampire to die in agony. He dropped to his knees next to the body and punched it. Again and again, until his knuckles were raw, he pounded his fists into its face, not feeling the tears running down his cheeks, he punched and kicked until he had no more energy. Then he felt hands pulling him away. Arms embracing him, and Edgar's voice in his ear, “That's enough, Alan. Come home now, we'll try again tomorrow.”


	5. Part 4

As they made the short journey home, Edgar watched his brother out of the corner of his eye. The younger boy walked in silence, his hands still clenched into fists, his knuckles bloody. His jacket was pulled tight around his body and he stared down to the pavement in front of them.

He had scared Edgar tonight. Not just the flying or the glowing eyes. Edgar knew what they were facing, these things he had expected. Vampire detection was an unexpected bonus, as unwelcome as the rest of the change, but possibly useful in their quest to undo it. What had scared Edgar was the uncontrolled, frenzied attack on the body of the dead vampire. Alan was losing it. Little by little, he was watching his brother change into something else, and that terrified him.

“Wash up and get back in your room,” he ordered as soon as they got home.

“Edgar...”

“Now.”

“No, Edgar. There's something I need to say.”

Edgar shook his head, “Later, I'll come up. Just get out of here before someone sees you.”

Alan ran up the stairs into the living area of the building. The downstairs was mostly taken up by the comic store and storage area, though they had managed to squeeze the kitchen in at the back of the house. Edgar listened to his footsteps pounding on the stairs. He heard water running in the bathroom and nodded in satisfaction, then stomped into the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water and a banana and followed his brother upstairs.

He let himself into Alan's room. Everything looked exactly the same as it always had, no signs there of the sudden, worrying change in their lives. The neatly stacked bookshelves were filled with information on the supernatural. Comic books scattered around, still more bagged and boarded, stored in cardboard boxes lined up along the wall. Edgar sat at the desk and waited.

Alan was muttering under his breath as he walked in. His eyes still downcast, he didn't notice Edgar watching him. When he looked up, he jumped in surprise.

“Boo,” said Edgar, softly.

“What are you doing there?”

Edgar shrugged, “You had something to say. I brought you some food. You haven't eaten since those decade old Oreos at Sam's house.”

He tossed the banana across the room. Alan caught it and stared at it as though examining it for a trick. Not finding one, he crossed the room and put it back down on his desk. “Ed, this isn't what I'm hungry for,” he whispered.

“Yeah, well you're not all the way bloodsucker yet. Half vampire means half human. Since you can't feed the vampire half, maybe you should eat some food, drink some water. It might help.”

Alan glanced at the offerings Edgar had brought him. The thought of eating or drinking made him feel nauseous.

“Please?” said Edgar.

Alan picked up the glass of water and sniffed it experimentally. He raised it to his lips and took a swig. He sloshed the water around his mouth and swallowed slowly, then and put the glass back down. “Eddie, it's time,” he said in a small voice.

“Time for what?”

“We're never going to find the Widow. You promised me you'd stake me if it came to it. It's time.”

Edgar was on his feet in a flash, head shaking vehemently from side to side. “No. It's only been two days, we've barely started looking for her. Give me chance, I can find her, I know it.”

Alan teased the skin of his bottom lip with his teeth, not meeting his brother's gaze, “I'm going to hurt someone, Eddie, and I'm afraid it might be you.”

“You've been doing okay. I mean, you haven't tried to eat anyone yet, have you?”

Alan turned his head away.

Edgar's eyes narrowed, “Have you?”

“No, of course not. But I want to, Edgar.” He paced to the window and turned around, “I hate it, but I want to. I need to. And it's getting stronger.”

“What do you mean?” Edgar demanded.

Alan sat down on the side of the bed, facing his older brother. His hands gripped the fabric of his bed covers and twisted them around. He stared straight ahead, but made no eye contact, as though he was barely aware that he was talking to another person. “It started out feeling like I was hungry, then it got worse, I felt so thirsty too. Like I was dying of thirst. But now it's like I can't breathe, Eddie. I feel like if I don't do it, I'm going to die.”

Suddenly his eyes locked onto Edgar's and Edgar could see all the fear and pain behind them. His heart broke for him, but what Alan was asking was too much.

Alan's hand reached for a wooden stake laying conspicuously on the window ledge. He handed it over, slowly, but without hesitation. “The vamp tonight was right, we're never going to find her, and I could snap at any time. If I lose control, I put everyone in danger.”

Edgar took the stake from his brother's hand and held it down by his side. “No,” he said, “not yet.”

“Please, I don't want to hurt anyone. I couldn't live with myself. Unless...how do you think it works? Will I become a monster and suddenly not care who gets killed so I can keep on living, or will I spend every night killing and hating myself for it?”

“I don't know, Alan. We're not going to find out.” Edgar walked away, taking the stake with him. “We'll think of something,” he said, “hang on, don't do anything til I say so. I'm still in charge.”

Alan nodded and lay down on the bed. He wrapped his arms around his body and closed his eyes.

* * *

As he locked the door to Alan's room, Edgar realized he was shaking. His hands clenched into fists and he ran into his own room, slammed the door behind him, and spent a few minutes beating up his pillow. One of these days, he had to get a punch bag. It would be good practice, and great for working out his frustrations. If they ever got paid for a job, it was at the top of his to buy list.

Feeling more tired but no calmer, he ran down the stairs just in time to hear the telephone ringing. He picked up, “Frog's Comics. What?”

“Edgar?”

He hesitated, trying to decide whether to slam down the receiver or say something first. “Sam. What do you want?”

“I just wondered how it went tonight.”

Edgar slouched against the wall and scowled, “We came back alive. No thanks to you.”

“Hey, I said sorry I couldn't go.” He had the nerve to sound indignant, Edgar thought he might stick Sam's photograph on his punch bag when he got it.

“Yeah, well your vampires never turned up, but lucky us, it turns out my brother's got some freaky vamp detector built in now. Oh, and he flies. Came half way to a full on vamp-out earlier tonight, and right now he's in his room thinking about staking himself. So, how was your night?”

He heard Sam sigh dramatically on the other end of the line, “Look, can I talk to Alan?”

“No can do. Alan's confined to quarters until further notice.”

“It's important.”

“Yeah, well having back up tonight was important too, but you bailed. If you want back in, come round and prove it.” Edgar hung up, went in the kitchen and helped himself to the contents of the cookie tin on the second shelf. The ones on the top shelf had extra ingredients that would impair his fighting skills. 

He sat down at the table and crunched his way through half the tin before he heard banging on the shop door. He turned on the light and walked through into the front to the store. Sam, his face flushed from the exertion of cycling, was pressing his nose against the glass, peering inside.

Edgar sighed and let him in, locking the door behind them. Sam leaned his bicycle against a rack of Batman comics and took a series of deep breaths.

“Can I help you with something?” Asked Edgar when what was left of his patience had expired.

“Yeah, like I said, can I talk to Alan?”

* * *

Sam frowned as Edgar pulled out a key and unlocked Alan's door. “You locked him in?”

“He's a vampire.”

Alan was reading a large, hardback book with a black cover, he looked up when the door opened. “Half,” he said.

Edgar shrugged, “And we want to keep it that way.”

Sam glanced with concern in Alan's direction, but his friend nodded, “It's fine, I'm okay with it.”

“I brought you this,” Sam took off his backpack, unzipped it and pulled out a glass bottle. He passed it over.

Alan looked at the bottle, “Is this root beer?”

“Not exactly. It was my grandpa's.”

“What?!” said Edgar as Alan tossed the bottle away in horror. It landed on his bed, far enough away, but where there was no danger of it breaking.

“What, guys? Don't you get it?” asked Sam, frowning.

“You brought blood in here?” asked Alan weakly.

“Well,” Sam shrugged, “animal blood. Yeah.”

Edgar and Alan exchanged an identical look of disgust, Edgar's arms folded across his chest and he glared at Sam.

“My grandpa drank it instead of human blood, so he never turned into a full vampire,” Sam explained, “he passed for human for years.”

“He doesn't want to _pass_ for human, Sam.”

Sam nodded, “But it'll help you for now. It'll give us more time to find the head vampire. Edgar, will you stop looking at me like you're going to punch me in the face and think about it for a minute.”

Edgar shook his head, “I did think about it, two days ago. It's too dangerous, we don't know what it'll do to him.”

“It'll help him control the urge to bite people.”

“Then how come your vamp-father didn't give it to Michael, huh?” Edgar leaned forward threateningly, “he knew what was going on, why didn't he hand over a pint of squirrel to keep him going? Maybe once you've done it, you can't go back. Yeah, maybe it'll stop him biting anyone, but what if it changes him some other way? What if he can't go back to human?”

Sam floundered for an answer, then shook his head, “I don't know,” he admitted.

Edgar nodded in satisfaction, “Then maybe you should keep your miracle cure to yourself and get out there helping me find this head vamp.”

Sam refastened his backpack and slung it over one shoulder. He turned to leave. “I was just trying to help.”

“Well don't!”

Alan sat motionless, watching the argument distractedly, “Can I say something?” he asked.

Edgar fixed angry, frustrated eyes on him, Sam turned around.

“Just because it's my life you're arguing about. I thought I should get a say.”

“Then say,” Edgar told him, “and you'd better say no.”

Alan reached over to where the bottle had landed, picked it up and unscrewed the lid. Edgar watched in horror as his brother took a sniff of the contents and pulled a revolted face. “Ugh,” he said.

Edgar turned to Sam in triumph, but as he did the expression his friend's face alerted him to the fact that Alan wasn't done. He spun back around just in time to see his brother swallowing a gulp of refrigerated blood. His mouth opened and closed wordlessly, and he turned back to Sam. “This is on you, Sam. If anything goes wrong, it's on you.”

Sam stepped around him, moving closer to Alan. “How do you feel?” he asked.

“Sick,” he replied simply.

Edgar pushed Sam out of the way, “Anything else?”

“Hungry.”

Sam's face fell in disappointment but Alan shook his head.

“No, hungry's better,” he said. He brought the bottle to his lips and took another sip, and grimaced. “Yuck.”

Edgar watched in revolted disbelief as his brother swigged from a bottle of blood. When he couldn't take it any more, he elbowed Sam in the ribs and motioned for him to follow as he left the room. He locked the door behind them and walked downstairs.

* * *

Edgar pressed his palms against the kitchen top and lifted his body until he was sitting on the surface. He inflated his cheeks and let the air out slowly. “Can you get more of that stuff?”

“Yeah,” Sam pulled out three more bottles from his bag and put them in the refrigerator, “make sure your parents don't drink these,” he said.

Edgar half smiled and shook his head, “They probably wouldn't notice if they did. Is that all of it?”

Sam nodded, “But grandpa had blood draining equipment in with his taxidermy stuff. No idea how to use it, but I could find out.”

“Do.”

Sam reached into the cookie jar still on the kitchen table and helped himself, “You've changed your tune,” he said.

“Yeah, well. It's done now. Anyway, he was in agony, now he's just in pain.” Edgar looked away, “Thanks, Sam. But remember, if this goes wrong...”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. All my fault. I'll be kicked out, I'll never hunt vampires in this town again. Something like that, right?”

“Right.” Edgar glanced at him sideways, “So are you back in?”

It was a heavy question. One Sam wanted to answer truthfully, but the truth was that he just didn't know how long he could keep doing this. With the toll it was taking on him already, he didn't want to think about where he'd be a year or so down the line. He didn't want to end up like Alan. Or like Edgar, for that matter. He shrugged, “I guess so.”

“I need more than that, Sam. If you're in, it's got to be all the way or you're no use to me. I need someone reliable on my team. So are you in?”

Sam sighed, “Yes. At least until we help Alan.”

Edgar nodded. That would do for now. Once his brother was cured, Sam could do what he wanted. Until then, Edgar needed the backup. “Alright,” he said, “recon mission. The Black Widow's got some... interesting... interests. We ask around town, if she's setting up shop somewhere else, the local weirdos'll know about it.”

“Right now?” asked Sam. 

“The weirdos come out at night, Sam. Just like the vampires.” He headed out of the door, leaving Sam with little choice but to follow him.


	6. Part 5

Alan woke up alone for the first time since this nightmare had started. No Edgar shaking or prodding him, just the sense that he night was beginning slowly coaxing him from his slumber. His bed sheets had somehow become tangled around him as he slept. He unwrapped himself and started to get up, then he paused. No point, he was locked in. Irritated, he lay back down, placed his hands underneath his head and stared at the ceiling. He listened to the sounds of the house. Downstairs in the store, Edgar and Sam were speaking in low voices. He could hear what they were saying easily, but it wasn't for his benefit that they were whispering.

He closed his eyes and listened harder. There were people in there browsing comics. Four – no, five distinct heartbeats. They were trying not to be overheard. He wondered whether two of the extra people down there were his parents. He wondered whether they had noticed his absence the past few days.

Because he didn't really want to know the answer to that question, he tuned in to Edgar and Sam's conversation and concentrated on that. It was amazing to think of how far from his room they were, and how quietly they were speaking, yet he could hear every word with as much clarity as if they were sitting next to him.

“But no one we asked knew anything. 'Her house burned down and she left town', or 'she died in the fire', or 'she was injured and she's gone away to recover'. The same things over and over again. Doesn't that make you think that maybe she really has gone?” That was Sam, his voice hitting a higher pitch as he became agitated.

“No.” Edgar replied. His brother sounded confident on the surface, but Alan could tell he wasn't as sure as he appeared. “She was in charge of a huge vampire population, she wouldn't just give up all that power and skip town. She's hiding somewhere, plotting her revenge.”

“We killed most of the vampires she was in charge of,” Sam pointed out, “so her power's gone. And, don't you think maybe she thinks she's had her revenge?”

“What do you mean?” Edgar demanded.

Sam didn't reply at first. Alan held his breath, waiting. “Well, what's the worst thing that could happen to a vampire hunter?”

Again, there was silence. Both boys heart rates increased, Edgar's more than Sam's. Alan lay completely still, trying not to think. He had assumed it had been a spur of the moment decision, some kind of self defense tactic by the vampire he was fighting, to panic and disorient him. The idea that it might have been a thought out plan – change the hunter into a vampire as some form of punishment – it changed nothing, not really, but at the same time it changed everything.

“I'll to make her suffer for this,” Edgar said at last, “I'm going to hunt that bitch down and I'm going to force feed her holy water.”

Alan agreed. Unfortunately, he thought Sam might be right. That would explain why there had been no retribution after they attacked the mansion. They spent that night hiding, expecting to come home to pick up the pieces, but nothing had happened. The vampires may even have known they would go back the next day and cleared out before they arrived to burn it down.

If this was her revenge, Alan thought, she had a twisted sense of justice. Turn a vampire killer into the thing he hates most. If the self loathing doesn't finish him off before he turns, he replenishes the ranks, replacing one of the ones he killed. Well, that wouldn't happen. He would rather die. But the idea had awakened a kind of rage inside him. He couldn't let her win. If it came to it he would kill himself, but until that time came he would spend every night hunting for her. There was no way he was going to wait around in his room drinking bottled rodent blood and waiting to go crazy.

Alan opened the window and leaned outside. He took a deep breath, inhaling the night, and then he imagined that the darkness had a physical presence, one that he could control. He willed it to envelop his body and lift him upwards into the air.

As his feet lifted from the ground, Alan felt a thrill of excitement in his stomach. He had flown before, by accident, but he hadn't expected it to be so easy or to feel so natural. It was a freedom that he had never experienced before, that he would never be able to explain in words. The chill in the night air didn't touch him as it brushed through his clothes. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling, the sense of elation. If he could never be human again, it would almost be worth it just for this. Almost.

He flew a loop around the town, getting used to this strange ability. Santa Carla rushed by beneath him, a blur of lights, sounds and smells. He flew high enough that no one would notice him if they happened to look up, but low enough that he still felt like he was in the city. The speed he could manage was incredible. He picked a deserted street to land, and lowered himself to the ground. His landing was anything but graceful. He descended too quickly and stumbled as he hit the pavement. That was okay, he could work on that.

He walked quickly back to the boardwalk, the hub of both human and vampire activity. Here he had found a vampire last time by simply concentrating, he could do it again.

The sea of humanity that surrounded him was almost overwhelming. To find a vampire in this would not be easy. There were too many distractions. As he walked, he kept his eyes focused on his own feet, forcing senses other than his vision to take over. He was surrounded by blood. The human shaped packaging was incidental, it was the contents that consumed his thoughts. The animal blood may have taken the edge off the thirst, but not the need. He was coming to realize that they were two separate and distinct things. One could be sated with a substitute, the other could not.

It was always going to be a part of him. That voice that whispered from the shadows, pleading with him to do unthinkable things. The only way to silence it would be to kill the Black Widow, or so kill someone else. He was losing the battle now, and he wasn't sure exactly when that had stated to happen. Was it before he drank the animal blood, or after?

He sensed the vampire from behind him and turned around to scan the crowd. She wasn't difficult to spot. She stood alone, watching the crowds in much the same way as himself. Two predators, scanning for their prey. The difference was they were hunting for different things, and he had found what he was looking for. 

She was beautiful, long black hair perfectly framed a youthful face. She was slim, attractive, well dressed. If he didn't know what she was, he would have been watching her for a very different reason.

He walked in a wide circle, placing himself behind her, and followed as she walked through the crowds, looking at the people surrounding her. Searching for one, Alan suspected, who was alone, who she might easily coax away from the boardwalk without arousing suspicion. It wouldn't be difficult for her. A few softly spoken words, a smile, any one of the many male tourists could be tempted to follow her somewhere more private. It would be the last decision he ever made, and one he would regret for the rest of his short life.

Alan followed an inconspicuous distance behind her, watching her watching the people. She stared with interest at a group of young men, walking rowdily past, clearly drunk, leering at the pretty girls. He wondered what he would do if she chose a victim. He had come out tonight to practice identifying vampires, perhaps even follow one back to its lair. But if she decided to feed, he would have no choice but to stop her, and his foolish, spur of the moment decision to come out left him unarmed.

Lost in thought, he failed to notice that the vampire had stopped walking and turned around. Eyes still downcast, he almost walked straight into her. He stopped just in time, turned and hurried off in another direction.

Heart pounding, he tried to appear not to be rushing. Not daring to look behind him, he could tell she was still there. In a few short seconds, he had gone from hunter to prey, and unarmed against a full vampire he had no chance in a fight. The only thing he could do was stay close to people, not leave the crowds. She couldn't attack here without drawing attention, he was safe.

A hand touched his shoulder and he froze. It was her. She felt cold, her fingers were like icicles on his skin. He turned slowly, and looked at her.

“Why are you following me?” She asked.

Even her voice was beautiful. She must barely have to say a word before her victims blindly followed her to their deaths. Alan feigned ignorance, “I'm not.” He backed off a step, turning to walk away.

The hand gripped tighter, she stared deep into his eyes. He tried too look away, but she managed to hold his gaze. “You've been following me for the past five minutes,” she said, “I gave you chance to leave, but you didn't take it. Now I want to know why.”

Alan shook his head defiantly. “I wasn't following you.”

She smiled, “You're new, aren't you? Where's the one that changed you?”

He didn't reply, he stared her straight in the eye and prayed that he didn't look as afraid as he felt.

“The new ones always latch onto someone,” she said, “normally it's the one that changed them. Where is she?”

“Dead,” Alan told her. He omitted the part where his brother had driven a stake through her heart just seconds too late to save him.

He thought for a second that he saw a flicker of emotion cross her face, but before he could identify the meaning, it was gone. “And so you chose me. I'm flattered.” She released her grip on his arm and Alan relaxed just slightly. He wasn't equipped to fight, but perhaps if he could distract her for a moment, he could fly away.

“I could catch up and bring you down in an instant,” she told him. Alan looked at her in horror. Could she... “I can't read you mind, just your body language,” she explained. “I've been around a long time, I've picked up a couple of tricks. So will you, eventually. Anyway, I don't want to hurt you. You're one of us.”

Alan shook his head, “I'm nothing like you.”

“Not yet, but you will be.”

He shook his head again.

The vampire smiled, “You're resisting. Oh, you silly boy.” She shrugged, “You'll come round to our way of thinking sooner or later. Sooner, probably.” She leaned closer, “It's getting harder, isn't it?”

Alan's mouth set in a defiant line and he prepared to tell her he was fine, that he would rather die than become what she was. Suddenly, the idea occurred to him that perhaps he shouldn't argue. The vampire was looking at him with something akin to kindness, she didn't know who he was, what he was. She didn't know how many of her kind he had killed. Body language or not, she saw a new half vampire, wandering the streets of Santa Carla, alone, confused. As far as she knew, he could be anyone. He could have been turned by anyone. If he could play that role, perhaps he could use her.

Fear wrapped its tendrils around his stomach and squeezed tightly as he prepared to take the greatest risk of his life. Chatting to a vampire. If he could win her confidence, maybe he could find out where the Widow was hiding.

“It's so hard,” he said. There was no acting involved as he delivered that line.

She nodded, seemingly pleased to hear that. 

He took a deep breath and imagined he was someone else. Just some random kid, tricked by a vampire without knowing what they were or what he was letting himself in for. Someone who hadn't believed in monsters until suddenly he became one. “Can you help me?” he asked. 

She smiled with pleasure, “You can help yourself, all you have to do is feed. Stop resisting, you've been given a gift. Look at all these people, each one full of blood. Follow your instincts, do what you're fighting against. You're better than them now, it doesn't matter if you kill some, there are always more to take their place.”

Alan swallowed. Her words stirred something inside him. They brought the need closer to the surface. To be told that it was okay to do the unthinkable... it was as though she spoke directly to the vampire within him and made it stronger, “I can't,” he whispered, knowing that he so easily could.

She looked at him and the need amplified. “Then don't,” she told him. “Keep resisting.”

The human life around him became meaningless, nothing but a source of food. He could feel the burning need expressing itself physically, he knew his eyes were changing. He was changing. His tongue touched long, sharp teeth and recoiled in horror. The exertion of denying himself brought beads of sweat on his face. “Stop it!” he tried to sound authoritative, but it came out like he was pleading.

The vampire watched calmly, with an air of satisfaction. “You are strong, but you'll be ready soon. I can see it in your eyes,” And with that she took off into the night sky, traveling too quickly for Alan to track her direction, and suddenly he was alone with the need. Every nerve in his body was on fire, a fire that could only be extinguished by the human blood that surrounded him in every direction. He fought to resist. He fought to stand. He fought to breathe.

Summoning the very last of his remaining willpower, he forced himself to turn away from the boardwalk and go home. Flight eluded him, he stumbled back.

Standing at the back of the house, away from the temptation of the boardwalk and from the girl with the compelling argument that sang such a wonderful duet with the voice in his head, he felt calmer. He managed to lift himself through the air into the still open window of his bedroom and collapsed in a heap on the ground with a loud crash

Almost immediately, footsteps pounded up the stairs. Alan quickly closed the window and by the time Edgar had unlocked the door he was sitting on his bed, the picture of innocence.

“What the hell happened to you?” Edgar flipped on the light and stared at his brother in horror.

“What?” His voice sounded shaky.

Edgar hung back by the bedroom door, “Jesus, Alan, you look like... What was that noise?”

Alan shook his head, “I need to drink, Edgar. I need it now. Please.”

To Alan's relief, his brother didn't argue, didn't protest, he simply nodded and disappeared down the stairs wearing a look of horror and resignation.

Alone again, Alan glanced at what remained of his reflection in his bedroom window. He appeared semi transparent, a further horrible reminder of what had happened to him, and one he had managed to avoid looking at so far. But far worse than that were his eyes. They glowed a frightening shade of red, the focal point of a face that was barely his own. He didn't recognize the person he was looking at. He didn't even look human.


	7. Part 6

“Are you going to tell me what the hell happened?”

Edgar hung back just outside the door, arms crossed defensively, one hand hovering closely to a wooden stake that was tucked inside his belt. He had also armed himself with a water gun placed in a holster at his hip. Alan watched the hand by the stake. As Edgar noticed where his brother's eyes were fixed he wondered whether he would have the guts to do it, if the time came.

Alan was sitting on the floor, his back pressed against the side of his unmade bed, arms hugging one knee while the other leg lay out in front of him. He was visibly shaken, his hair plastered to his face with sweat, and an empty glass bottle laying next to him. But at least he looked like Alan again.

He shook his head. “I don't know. It happened suddenly, I just lost control.”

“Something must have triggered it,” Edgar insisted. “You were alone, there were no temptations. What happened?”

Alan simply shook his head again. Edgar scowled. His brother was keeping something from him.

“Is it the blood? I knew I shouldn't have let you have it. You've got a taste for it now, you're hooked.”

“No, that's not it.” Alan climbed shakily to his feet, leaving the discarded bottle where it had fallen and sat down on the bed.

“Then what?” Edgar insisted.

Alan closed his eyes for a long moment, Edgar could see an internal struggle going on inside him. When he opened them again, he looked his brother straight in the eye. “I went out.”

“What?” Edgar's voice was low and dangerous. His hands clenched into fists. “Out where?”

“To the boardwalk. I thought I could find a vampire and follow it to the Black Widow. If we can locate where she's sleeping...”

Edgar interrupted by marching into the room and pulling the curtains closed. There was no lock on the window, nothing he could do to stop Alan short of boarding it up, and he suspected that even their parents would notice something like that. This symbolic gesture would have to do. “This stops now,” he said.

“No, Edgar. It doesn't.”

Edgar stared in surprise at his brother, Alan didn't argue. Never. He might disagree, he frequently made suggestions that Edgar had to admit were better than his own, but he didn't just say no. “What do you mean it doesn't?”

Alan still stared his brother defiantly in the eye, “You're not going to find anything marching around town with Sam asking people where to find a bondage club. Jesus, Edgar, who's going to take that seriously? I'm not going to sit here waiting while you fail. I'm not going to turn because you don't trust me to help.” The defiant look morphed into something more like determination, “I'm not going to turn,” he repeated.

“You're damn right, you're not,” Edgar muttered. He turned on his heel, and walked quickly out the door. “Do not do anything until I say so.”

Alan nodded.

Edgar left the door open as he left. If Alan could come and go as he liked anyway, there was nothing to stop him accessing the house and shop by climbing out the window and walking in the door. He could kick himself for not thinking of that earlier. Leaving the door open at least meant he could keep an eye on him.

Downstairs, Sam was browsing the new comics and keeping an eye on the store. He looked up as Edgar returned, “What's up?”

“My brother the vampire,” Edgar told him. “Up in the air, out the window and flying around looking for bloodsuckers to follow home.”

“What?”

“Yeah, that's what I said.” Edgar sat down heavily, “He wants to help, he doesn't seem to realize what a liability he is right now. He was right about one thing though. We're not doing shit to help him. Until we find the head vamp, we're stuck.”

Sam placed his comic back on the shelf, “And until someone tells us where she is, we've got no hope of finding her.”

“Yeah.” Edgar rapped his knuckles a few times against the edge of the cash register and looked up, “We need to work harder. Ask more people, check out possible locations. I went to the mansion during the day yesterday, just in case. It was deserted. The old cave the same, but there's got to be dozens of potential hiding places along the beach.”

Sam nodded, “There are, and hundreds more in the town, and then there's the area around town. Maybe even some of the smaller towns nearby. If we had ten years and a license to go wherever we want, we might find her like that.”

“Great,” Edgar scowled, “I thought you were meant to be the team optimist.”

“Well, since you're not letting Alan help, I thought I'd take over as realist for a while. Don't worry, you're still the muscle.”

Edgar walked away silently, and busied himself rearranging a display of comics at the other side of the store. Sam watched, biting back his advice on the Frog's organizational system. When he was done, Edgar turned and marched back, he glared at Sam menacingly. “All right, Sam. You said you were back in. If you're on the team, you do things my way. Unless you've got some brilliant suggestion to find the head vampire, you keep your opinions on _my_ ideas to yourself. Got it?”

“Well actually, I do have an idea.”

Edgar waited, arms crossed.

“It's not really my idea,” Sam added, “but I think Alan's right. We need his help.”

“No.”

Sam shrugged, “Come on, if he went out tonight, you know he's just going to do it again. Instead of both doing your own things, why not team up?”

Alan crept out of his room and floated slowly down the stairs to avoid the creaking steps. He could hear the conversation perfectly well from his room, but he had no intention of being excluded any longer. 

“Because, Sam, he is a half vampire. Now I know in your family that's perfectly fine and normal or whatever, but around here vampires are the enemy.”

Standing in the back room, Alan listened in disbelief.

“Now, I know he's not a vampire yet,” Edgar continued, “but you didn't see him a minute ago. Every night he gets a little bit further from human, and sooner or later if we don't stake this head vamp, I'm going to lose him completely. I won't let that happen.”

Sam tried to think or a response to that, but nothing came to mind. To see such a display of emotion from his usually stoic friend completely disarmed him. “Okay,” he said, “I get it.”

“Well I don't,” Alan stepped out of the door to the living area and folded his arms. “I can help. You're never going to find her without me. That makes me valuable resource, why not use what you have?”

Edgar and Sam looked up in surprise at the voice behind them. Alan still looked shaken by the evening's events, but determined to get his point across.

Edgar shook his head, equally determined, “You know why.”

“I'm doing this with or without your approval, Edgar,” Alan told him. “You're fighting for my life here, I'm not going to just sit back and watch. I don't expect you to agree, after all, I'm the enemy right now, right?”

“I didn't mean it like that,” Edgar protested.

“I'm doing this,” Alan repeated, “And if you won't back me up, I'll do it alone.”

A hundred arguments pressed themselves into Edgar's brain, and he knew how Alan would respond to each one. His brother had the upper hand because he knew Edgar would never abandon him. He slumped on the stool behind the counter, defeated. “Well, if you're going to go out anyway, you might as well have back up,” he said finally.

Sam grinned as Alan nodded his acceptance and Edgar scowled.

* * *

After the last customer had left and the shop was locked for the night, two vampire hunters and one half vampire gathered in the back room, away from prying ears, to discuss strategy. Edgar and Sam listened to Alan's description of the night's events. He missed out the part about the almost loss of control. Edgar knew enough about that, Sam didn't need to.

“So this girl, do you think you could find her again?” asked Sam, eager now the investigation was moving on.

“This _vampire_ , Sam. Don't get fooled into thinking of them as people.” Edgar told him.

Alan ran his finger through a drop of water on the table and smeared it across the surface. He wondered whether Edgar was right. He still felt like himself right now. Would that change if he changed?

“Alan?”

“Oh. Yeah. I mean, if I see her I'd know her, and that's probably her hunting ground.”

Edgar grimaced, “Right outside our front door. Great.”

“I'm not sure I want to though.” Alan added, “Maybe I should find another one. There was something about her I didn't like.” She had had some kind of power over him. Her words alone had been enough to make the bloodlust rise. The lack of control had been terrifying. He didn't know whether it had been intentional or not, but she had been the cause and he had no desire to repeat the experience.

Sam smirked, “You mean like that she's a vampire? 'Cause you're gonna find that with all of them.”

“No, not that. There's something about her. She's dangerous.”

“Again...” began Sam

Edgar silenced him with a glare, which he then turned on Alan, “Is there something you're not telling us?”

Alan shook his head.

“Then Sam's right, they're all dangerous, and you probably won't like any of them. I'd be worried if you did. You've already made contact with this one. Stick with her. Play the poor confused half vampire, get her to lead us to her friends.”

Alan looked at his brother. He could see from the expression of distaste on his face how much Edgar hated this plan, but he seemed to have accepted that it was the only way. “What then?” he asked.

“We'll try to follow,” Edgar told him, “but if for any reason we can't, you get back to base with the location. Me and Sam'll go back there in the daylight and make sure we finish the job properly this time.”

Alan nodded slowly. Considering how determined he had been to help just a few hours ago, he was finding his enthusiasm fading fast. Out on the boardwalk, he had seen a chance and grabbed onto it. Trying to trick the vampire had just been an opportunistic gamble, hoping to get information. He had failed, and been rewarded instead with the most desperate struggle of his life – just getting home without committing murder.

When he had insisted on being included, he had hoped that between the three of them they could come up with something better than he could manage alone on the spur of the moment. But apparently not. If Edgar was willing to go along with this, a plan that potentially ended in him being trapped alone to a vampire's lair, there really must be no other way.

He felt a hand on his arm and looked up, “You okay with this?” Sam's eyes were full of concern.

He nodded, “Of course. When do we start?”

“Tomorrow night,” Edgar told him. “You go for a walk, see if you can find her. We'll go with you, following at a safe distance. But in the meantime, Sam and I are sticking to the original plan. While you're sleeping in all day, we'll be out scouting for potential locations. With luck we'll find her, stake her before you even wake up and you won't even need to go on this stupid mission.”

Alan tried to smile. That it would all be better when he woke up was a hope that he had already abandoned. If Edgar could still cling to the idea, Alan wasn't going to dissuade him, but Alan suspected the confidence was all a pretense.


	8. Part 7

This was their fourth attempt. Attempts one through three had proven fruitless. Alan was hyper-aware of Edgar's eyes following him as he wandered slowly down the boardwalk. As best as he could, he ignored the assault on his senses that came from the large crowd of people. Solitude was more comfortable for him. It always had been, even before. He had never needed anyone but Edgar. Now, Edgar looked at him with suspicion, and Alan preferred to be alone than deal with the constant reminder of what he had become.

Being around Sam was easier. He at least acted the same as he always had. Jokes, grins, clothes that would burn your eyes right out of your skull if you looked too hard. But there was still the blood to consider. It pumped through both their veins, warm, rich and tempting. No, Edgar had been right all along, staying alone was better. Unfortunately, the plan to save him – the only plan they had – depended on him wandering through the crowds of Santa Carla nightlife, tailed by either Edgar, Sam or both.

Tonight, Sam was filling in watching the store. Tomorrow it would be Edgar's turn to pace, constantly check the clock and peer anxiously through the window hoping to catch a glimpse of his brother. After that, Edgar would be out following him again.

Alan wondered how long they would be doing this for. The vampire he had spoken to had not made a reappearance. He was beginning to wonder whether she ever would. His senses closed to the best of his ability to the disturbingly tempting smell of human blood, he was unlikely to notice its absence if he passed another vampire. He was relying on his eyes alone to recognize the one he had seen.

* * *

Attempt number seven. Sam didn't seem to understand the concept of covert surveillance. Every time Alan turned around, he was right there. Sometimes he waved. Once he even gave him an encouraging thumbs up and a grin. Alan wondered how much longer he would be able to keep this up. Even with the animal blood Edgar was somehow – he didn't want to ask for details – managing to keep providing for him, he could feel his resolve weakening. It was becoming harder and harder to avoid thinking about blood. About how satisfying it would be to sink his teeth into the artery of some unsuspecting person and finally quench the raging thirst. It had been just over a week, but it felt like a lifetime of struggling. He just wanted it to be over.

He had a stake in his bedroom at home. Edgar didn't know about it, he thought he had taken all his weapons. It was stored under his mattress, right in the middle. He could feel it there when he lay down in the morning, and again when he opened his eyes at night. Sometimes, he would get it out and just look at it, trying to stir up the courage to do what it was becoming increasingly obvious Edgar could not.

He couldn't do it in his bedroom though, it wouldn't be fair to leave his family to clear up the mess.

As he walked through the crowd, closely followed by Sam, he thought through his options. He had to disappear. Edgar needed to be told, or he would spend his life convinced that his brother succumbed to the bloodlust and was out there somewhere. A note could set him right though, and Alan could fly high over the sea, thrust the stake through his own heart, and drop into the water never to be seen again.

But he didn't know if he had the strength to do that. To actually end his life, to no longer be a part of the world. Just not to exist anymore. It was an impossible thing to imagine. There was so much he had wanted to do with his life, and while there was still a chance, however slim, it would be difficult to throw it away.

But that was the problem, wasn't it? That thin sliver of hope was keeping him alive, and while he lived, he had the potential to surrender to the bloodlust. In the end, hope may be his downfall.

* * *

Night by night, the weeks passed like a form of torture. Almost three weeks had gone by, and they had found nothing. In desperation, they had moved their search from the boardwalk into the better populated areas of the city, then into the quieter areas, then back to the boardwalk. Nothing. Alan searched by sight, by scent and by every other method available to him. The sliver of hope was becoming thinner each morning when he closed his eyes knowing that they had failed once again.

It wasn't just the vampire woman who was impossible to find. After a week, Alan had expanded the search to include any vampires at all. A few days later, Edgar had authorized doing just that, but there were none. He had detected no hint of vampire activity, the disappearances had all but stopped. Under any other circumstances, this would be a cause for celebration, but not only did every passing night bring him one step closer to turning, it amplified the feeling that someone other than Edgar and Sam was watching him.

A half vampire's body temperature is slightly cooler than that of a human. It meant he didn't feel the slight chill in the air this evening that was keeping the people away. The boardwalk was much quieter than normal. Edgar was invisible as he followed him, waiting, watching.

This was the night, he had decided. If they found nothing tonight, he would end it. It was the same decision he had made the night before, and the one before that. Somehow, he always managed to find a reason to continue. But that, he realized, was all he was doing now. Not living, simply continuing his life. Like dying man trapped in a hospital bed, unable to do anything but watch through the window as the world went by without him.

It was as he was cementing the decision in his mind, that he turned a corner and stopped suddenly. She was standing there, leaning casually against a wall, examining her black painted fingernails and looking as though she was waiting for someone. Waiting for him.

She smiled without even looking up at him, “You're following me again,” she said.

Behind him, he could hear the increase in Edgar's heart rate, and wondered whether she had noticed him. If she had, she gave no sign. “I can't follow someone I can't find.” he told her.

“True,” she said. “In fact, I've been following you. Watching you.”

Alan felt a chill at that thought. How many nights had she been watching? Did she know why he was looking for her, how he meant to use her?

“You're still resisting.” The vampire said.

Alan nodded, he could hardly deny that, not when he was clearly not a full vampire.

The vampire smiled, “Good. You're stronger than I thought.” The wind ruffled her impossibly shiny hair, but she gave no signs of feeling the chill in the air. “Or you've been drinking something else.” She sniffed the air in a way Alan found slightly disturbing and pulled a revolted face. “You have, haven't you? Why would you do that?”

He had rehearsed the conversation he would have with her a hundred times in his head. Sometimes it ended with her taking him to the Black Widow, sometimes with her killing him where he stood. He was fine with either outcome. But in all the times he had planned what he would say, he had never anticipated that question. “What choice did I have?” he asked.

“The choice not to foul your body like that. Drink pure, human blood straight from the source. You weaken yourself with every sip of that filth.” She seemed angry. That hadn't been in the script either.

“I'm sorry,” he said. It seemed the appropriate response if he wanted to keep her talking.

She shook her head and looked up at him for the first time, “I'm sure you're not.”

“No.”

“But you will be.”

Alan frowned. The brief thrill of excitement at finally discovering their prey was rapidly turning to apprehension. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, little hunter, that I was waiting for you to finally surrender and drink. I've been watching you wandering through crowds of humans night after night, knowing that your resolve couldn't last forever. But you cheated, and now I have no choice but to move things along myself. I sent the others away, I've been waiting for you alone. I'm beginning to crave the company of my own kind.”

This really wasn't going according to plan. He could hear the increase in Edgar's breathing as well as his heart rate, and could imagine him crouching, stake in hand, ready to strike. In a final effort to stick to the plan, he feigned ignorance. “Others? Are there more like us?”

“Of course, we're everywhere.” The vampire laughed, “But why are you asking questions when you already know the answer? Did you really think you could trick me?” She shook her head, “You must be getting desperate to resort to this. Feed, and it will all be over.”

She spoke to the bloodlust inside him, coaxing it to the surface. The need filled him again, he was suffocating while simultaneously drying of thirst and hunger. Blood. Warm, delicious, blood. He needed it. Every cell in his body screamed for it. He could smell his brother behind him. He wanted to sink his teeth into his veins and drink his blood. The idea consumed his thoughts until it was the only one remaining.

The vampire stood very still, watching his internal struggle with amusement. “There are consequences, little hunter.” she said. “Did you think you could come into my home, kill my family and just go home to your own?”

Alan backed away from her, but that only moved him closer to Edgar. He stopped. “It's you,” he managed to say through trembling lips. “You're the Black Widow.”

She giggled, and if it was possible for such a sound to be sinister, she managed it. “Yes, they call me that. All this time looking for me and we'd already met.”

The crippling power of the need for blood was no match for the white hot rage running through his veins. “I'm going to kill you,” he told her.

The Black Widow smiled patronizingly, “Yes, I'm sure you want to. I die, and you become human again.” She shook her head, “But you're not going to kill me. You're going to kill your brother. Mmm, doesn't he smell delicious?”

Edgar chose that moment to step out from his hiding place, armed with stakes and holy water. He began to advance quickly on their position.

“No, Edgar, stay back!” Alan shouted. The scent of blood filled his nostrils, he held his breath but it made no difference. The closer Edgar moved, the weaker Alan's resolve became

Edgar ignored him and rushed towards her to attack. Alan felt fangs, sharp against his tongue. Every instinct screamed at him to attack. In desperation, he took to the air and fled, placing as much distance between himself and his brother as he could stand. The further he moved, the more the need receded. When he felt safe, he turned to watch, praying that Edgar had followed his lead and ran away. He hadn't.

Edgar held his stake rigid in his right hand and charged, screaming a battle cry. The Black Widow stepped easily aside and easily knocked the weapon from his hand. Momentum from the charge threw him forward and he almost fell. As he regained his balance, he reached for the water gun in his holster. Before he could pull the the trigger, she grabbed his arm tightly at the wrist and squeezed. The gun fell uselessly to the ground, its contents spilling and soaking into the concrete.

Still holding his arm, she pulled him closer to her. Edgar yelled in fright and struggled for freedom. As she griped him with her other arm, he fully expected to die. He looked around in desperation for Alan, but didn't see him hovering in the sky above them.

Acting on sheer impulse, Alan swooped down towards them. Edgar closed his eyes as he struggled and kicked. He didn't want to see her fangs before they pierced his skin, he didn't want to know when it was coming. But she didn't bite. Instead, she took off into the air, carrying him with her.

Alan arrived a moment too late to stop them. He watched in horror as his brother was lifted away into the night sky. Without hesitation, he grabbed Edgar's discarded stake and he launched himself after them. He flew faster than he had ever managed before, desperate to keep them in view. Edgar's extra weight might have been slowing her down, or maybe she wanted him to follow. Whatever the reason, he had no trouble tracking them. He knew that most likely meant he was being led into a trap, but it didn't matter. He had no choice. There was much more hanging in the balance now than his humanity.


	9. Part 8

Alan tailed her to the site of the burnt out mansion. The damage the fire had done to the place was impressive. The walls were blackened with smoke, every window was broken, but it was still standing. The door was gone, she made contact with the ground just outside and walked through.

When Alan rushed inside after her, she was gone. There was no sign of the vampire or of Edgar. His eyes flicked frantically around the imposing hall that was the first room in the house. Keen, half vampire eyes allowed him to pick out footprints in the soot. They led him to a staircase taking him down into the basement. That part of the house was relatively untouched by the fire. He knew that Edgar had been back to check the mansion several times before tonight and found no sign that the vampires had returned. Why she had brought him here, he had no idea, but in a way it made sense that this was where it ended. Perhaps the vampire appreciated the symmetry.

The Black Widow seemed to radiate power in a way unlike any other vampire he had encountered before. Whether that was because he was more attuned to it now, or because she was simply older and more powerful than anything they had seen before, he didn't know. It hardly seemed like the ideal time to consider it.

He climbed carefully down the slightly fire damaged stairs into the darkened basement. His eyes adjusted quickly to the gloom and he saw her waiting at the other side of the room. Edgar lay on the ground by her feet, unconscious. He faced the stairs as though deliberately positioned to be the first thing Alan saw as he descended. A bruise, already turning an unpleasant shade of purple, adorned his forehead, she had either hit him, or thrown him into the wall and knocked him out. To Alan's intense relief, he could still hear his heartbeat and breathing. They were getting stronger, he would be awake soon.

“Welcome,” said the Black Widow.

To her left there another man lay on the ground. He was semi-conscious, unmarked, unbitten and still human. He was suffering for that. His breathing was labored, his eyes half open and glazed as he watched the scene unfolding around him without comprehension.

Seeing Alan's eyes drift in his direction, the Widow smiled, “He's for you,” she explained. “Your first kill. I suspected we might end up here tonight, so I prepared him for you. He's a murderer, to appease that human conscience of yours. Most new vampires would tear their own families apart while they slept, but you...” she shook her head disapprovingly, “Maybe your brother would make a better recruit. I doubt he'd have your hangups about killing.” She looked down at Edgar's unconscious form and smiled, “What do you say, Eddie? Want to live forever?”

Edgar's eyes opened a fraction of an inch. The room was spinning, he wanted to throw up. Whatever he had missed while he was out, he really didn't like the way the conversation was going. He tried to get up, but his body wasn't responding properly. His strength failed him and he ended up back on the ground with no choice but to watch and wait.

Alan's fingers tightened around the stake tucked in his belt and he took a step closer to Edgar. His eyes narrowed, and his voice sounded dangerous even to his own ears. “No.”

She smiled with pleasure, “So that got a reaction, did it? Okay, I have a deal for you. If you kill my evildoer, I won't turn your brother.”

Alan didn't move, didn't react. At her feet, Edgar once again tried to get up. He managed to push himself into a sitting position and was rewarded by a feeling of intense dizziness. His head drooped forwards and hands tried to grip the floor for balance. “Don't you dare, Alan,” he called.

The widow knelt down next to him. Edgar knew he couldn't get away, but he tried to crawl. Alan pulled out his stake and rushed at her, but she dodged easily. The same move she had used against Edgar earlier that evening disarmed him and with no more effort than a human might use to toss a football, she threw him across the room. He landed with a painful sounding crack next to her other victim.

Edgar watched with dread as the Black Widow bit into her own wrist. The blood welled up much more slowly than it would in a human. He struggled harder to stand. His strength was returning but not quickly enough, and his head was still spinning. He managed to drag himself a few painful and futile feet away. She simply reached over and pulled him back..

“One of you is going to drink,” said the Widow, as she moved the bleeding wound closer to his lips. He could smell the blood. He turned his head away, closed his mouth as hard as he could.

The man on the ground was dying. Alan didn't know how he knew it, but he could tell. He could almost feel the life ebbing from his body. No matter what the outcome of this showdown, he wasn't going to make it out alive.

If Edgar became a half vampire, he would kill himself. This was something that Alan knew with a certainty. If Edgar drank, Alan would lose him forever. But to take that final, terrible step to becoming a full vampire would mean death for Alan. Maybe not death in the normal sense, but the end of everything he knew, everything he was. Either way, whatever he decided, he would still lose Edgar.

He could see his brother trying to struggle. The Black Widow was too strong to resist even if he had been at full strength. She was toying with him, giving Alan the chance to make his decision.

The fear in Edgar's expression was a terrible thing to see. His brother was never afraid. Give him a strong enough stake and some holy water and he would march straight into hell without looking back. He had no fear of death. But this was something much worse than death that was being offered to him, and the terror in his eyes as he realized he could do nothing about it was painful to watch.

Edgar's head shook from side to side, his eyes were focused on Alan, begging him not to do it, not to drink. But to save his brother the hell he had gone through, Alan would do anything. Even this.

The man on the ground was fading fast. A few more minutes and he would be gone. Alan felt the hated fangs protrude. The Black Widow smiled as he slowly and awkwardly used the sharp teeth to pierce the man's artery. Blood gushed from the wound and filled his mouth. He hesitated before swallowing, but the decision had been made and there was no going back. It was hot and thick and wonderful, everything that he had needed for so long. The relief at finally surrendering was sheer bliss. He had almost forgotten how it felt to not be at war with his own body. 

The corpse lay limp in his arms. He released it and allowed it to fall to the ground. He looked down at the body of the man he had just killed, and he felt nothing. He thought he should feel something.

The Black Widow watched with satisfaction, and Edgar with horror.

Edgar couldn't tear his eyes away from the nightmare scene in front of him. Alan's mouth was red with blood, the body at his feet had been alive only seconds before. Alan looked at him far too calmly. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, it only smeared the blood further across his cheek. He had been given a choice between damning himself or his brother. He had chosen to bear the burden himself. Edgar wondered whether he would ever be able to forgive him.

Even while he was still watching the thing that used to be his brother, he heard the Widow's voice speaking to him. “Now you.”

She pressed her still bleeding wrist to his lips, holding his head in place with her other hand. He struggled as hard as he could manage, but she was so much stronger than him. No matter how much his body writhed and kicked, she held his head firm.

He held his lips pressed together, refusing to allow the blood to enter his mouth. She responded by pulling him closer to her, pressing his face against her body so hard he couldn't breathe. He tried to do nothing, to simply allow himself to pass out through oxygen deprivation, but he failed. His mouth opened in a gasp as survival instinct took over. Blood rushed inside, warm and terrible only because he knew what it was and what it would do. He fought not to swallow, but his body once again betrayed him in a desperate bid for survival, and he felt himself accept the blood.

He felt sick at the sensation of the liquid running down his throat, yet he continued to swallow again and again, until she finally dropped him and he fell to the ground gasping and coughing.

Edgar spat out the blood still in his mouth. He struggled to his hands and knees and retched, trying desperately to bring what he had swallowed back up, to undo what had been done to him, but it was too late. He could already feel that he was different. His head was no longer spinning, the blood had healed his concussion. He still wanted to vomit, but not because of the bump on his head. 

Alan sank to the ground next to the body of his victim, and watched. He could feel the change from half to full vampire working on him. His muscles cramped as his body changed. It was painful, but not as painful as watching the scene before him. Edgar half lay on the ground, shaking, and coughing. He forced fingers down his throat, as though just bringing the blood back up would undo the change. It was too late. By now, he would feel it. Alan remembered all too vividly that strange sensation of otherness that came with knowing your body was no longer truly your own. With it came helplessness, confusion and the horror of knowing that you would become the thing you hunted, the thing you hated.

Edgar sobbed as he tried to cough up the poisonous blood, Alan lay helplessly on the ground, just feet away, watching but unable to do anything. Even if he could reach his brother, it was already too late. Edgar was a half vampire now. Soon, he would be like Alan.

There was a kind of comfort in that thought. They would still be together.

Edgar reached shakily for his second stake and thrust it ineffectually in the direction of the Widow, she stepped aside easily and the weapon dropped uselessly to the ground next to the first. He turned and looked at his brother pleadingly, questioningly. 'Can you help?'

Alan hesitated before he nodded, caught between the need not to be alone and the need to help his brother. The pain was beginning to subside, and he was able to think clearly. Edgar reached for the stake and slid it across the ground to where Alan was sitting. Alan caught it easily in his right hand.

The Widow's eyes were the same shade of blue as the sky on a clear summer's day. He would never see that again. He would never see his parents again, or his brother. He would never do any of the things he had planned to do with his life. It was all over, and she was responsible. He threw the stake across the room with a force that he never could have managed as human.

His aim was perfect, it pierced her right through her heart. The vampire screamed as she died in a ball of white fire.

Edgar gasped as he felt himself released from the change that had barely begun. He breathed deep, then turned to Alan triumphantly. Mission accomplished. The head vampire was dead.

Then he remembered.

The thought struck him like a punch to the gut, leaving him winded and gasping for air. When he recovered enough to look up again, Alan was gone.

Edgar took a deep breath and began to climb the stairs into the ruined house. He walked in a kind of daze through smoke blackened rooms until he found the gap where the door used to be, and staggered out into the night.

Alan was standing in front of him as he emerged. Edgar looked at him, unable to form words. He could feel hot tears building up pressure in his eyes as he refused to let them fall.

Alan was holding his other stake. Wordlessly, he offered it to his brother.

Edgar shook his head.

"Edgar, please. While I'm still me. I don't know if that's going to change."

It had to be done, he knew that. Alan had killed, he was a full vampire now. There was no going back. Slowly, he reached out and took the weapon. He looked at it, then back at Alan. Alan nodded.

The healing effects of his few minutes as a half vampire held out, and the world didn't spin. He wished it would, it would provide a welcome distraction. His hand gripped the wood so tightly it hurt. Alan remained perfectly still and closed his eyes. Edgar thrust the stake forwards. He missed the heart. He missed Alan completely. “I can't,” he said. It came out as a whisper.

“I'm a vampire,” Alan told him. His voice betrayed no emotion as he voiced the horrible fact, but his face reflected the revulsion that Edgar himself felt. But it was Alan. It was his brother.

“I can't,” he said again. “I thought I could, but I just can't.”

Alan nodded, “It's okay, I wouldn't be able to do it either, if it was you.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Edgar.

Alan smiled sadly, “I suppose I'm going to live,” he said. He turned to leave, “I'll be seeing you,” he said, and took to the air.

“You're not invited in the house!” Edgar yelled into the night sky.

He dropped to the ground and watched him go for long after he was no longer visible. When he finally picked himself up, the sky was beginning to lighten on the horizon from black to deep blue. He wondered whether Alan had found a place to shelter. He hoped so, but at the same time, part of him hoped his brother had the courage to face the sun while enough of his humanity remained.


	10. Epilogue

It was a week later that Sam came around to the comic store to break his news. He tapped his fingers nervously on a box of back issues as he spoke, not making eye contact. “My mom wants us to get away for a while. After Grandpa died, I think she just wants to get out of town and forget about things.”

Edgar folded his arms and glared at him through narrowed eyes. “I don't believe this! My brother turns into the evil undead and you get to go an a nice vacation?”

Sam shrugged apologetically, “I can't tell her I'm not going. What would I do, stay in that creepy old house by myself?”

“We've got a spare room now,” Edgar told him, quietly.

“Look,” Sam bit his bottom lip and regarded his friend. On the surface, he seemed to be fine, but Sam was sure that no one could go through what they had and still be okay. Even someone like Edgar Frog. “Why don't you come with us? I already asked my mom and she's fine with it. It'd do you good to get out of Santa Carla for a few weeks. Too many bad memories, that's what mom said.”

Edgar shook his head, “I've got work to do.”

“So just take a week. The vampires aren't going anywhere.”

“Actually, they are,” Edgar told him. “Most of the vampire activity has moved up the coast, I'm going to follow it. So when you come back, don't expect to find me here.”

“Oh. Well, you'll be back won't you? Sometimes?”

Edgar shrugged, “There's nothing here for me any more. Alan's gone, and our parents barely notice. And you're right, bad memories. He's everywhere I look around here. It makes it too hard to believe he's gone.”

Sam sat down and ran a finger across the top of the box of comics distractedly. So, Edgar did feel. It was a revelation he could have done without at this particular moment. “He's not gone, Edgar. I know you don't believe it, but he's still Alan, even if he is a vampire.”

“No,” Edgar shook his head, “Alan's dead. That's just a monster wearing his skin.”

“Yeah, well he sounds like Alan. He misses you.”

Edgar's eyes narrowed further, “You've seen him, then?”

Sam nodded, “A couple of times.”

“Damn it, Sam!” Edgar shook his head as he pounded his fist into the wall, “Haven't you learned anything? Vampires will try to seduce you, bring you into their world. Maybe it's good you're leaving town, maybe you shouldn't come back. Just be very careful, cos I'm pissed at you right now, but I don't want to have to stake you. Got it?”

“I've got to go,” Sam told him, “Let me know where you end up, I'll see you when I get back.”

Edgar watched the other member of his team leave. Fine, he was better off on his own, fewer people to worry about. He flicked a glance at his parents, both asleep behind the cash register, and headed up to his room. Time to make preparations, he would leave for Luna Bay in the morning.


End file.
